I sat there in silence.
My body was still weak, my back pressed against the cold wooden stall as I struggled to steady my breathing. The healing magic had closed my wounds, but the exhaustion remained deep in my muscles. Around me, the market slowly returned to motion. Murmurs rose again, footsteps resumed, and merchants began speaking to their customers as though nothing unusual had happened.
It was as if the violence from moments ago had already been forgotten.
But my eyes were not following the crowd.
They were fixed on one person.
Her.
The woman stood a few steps away, her posture straight and composed, her hair falling neatly along her shoulders. Her clothes were simple, yet that simplicity only made her presence feel calmer… more refined.
Beautiful.
Not in a flashy way.
But the kind of beauty that made people pause without even realizing it.
Strong. Brave.
Not just because of the water magic I had witnessed moments earlier, but because of the way she had stood in front of a man far larger and far rougher than herself without stepping back even once.
I swallowed.
This world was full of people stronger than me.
But her…
She stood there as if the strength of others had never been a reason to bow.
Something stirred faintly in my chest.
A warm feeling.
And then—
I noticed movement.
Not in front of me.
At the edge of my vision.
At the far end of the market street, someone was running.
At first, I almost ignored it. The market was always busy. People came and went constantly, weaving through the streets and between the stalls.
But something felt wrong.
His stride was too fast.
Too straight.
Not panicked.
Not rushed.
It was the run of someone who already knew exactly where he was going.
My eyes narrowed.
He was big.
Nearly the same build as the thug from before—broad shoulders, thick chest, powerful arms tensed as he moved through the crowd. His head was slightly lowered, as though hiding his face from the people around him.
My chest tightened instantly.
For no clear reason—
my instincts screamed.
His movement was directed here.
Toward her.
I jolted.
My legs wanted to move, but my body was still heavy from the beating.
Then I saw it.
A flash of metal.
Just a brief glint between his strides.
A knife.
My stomach dropped.
And in that instant, I knew.
This wasn't over.
She didn't see him.
He was coming from behind.
The noise of the market faded from my awareness. My heartbeat thundered loudly in my ears as everything else seemed to blur around me.
If I ran now…
Could I reach her?
Would I be fast enough?
No.
That wasn't what I should be thinking.
I ran.
As fast as I could.
My steps felt heavy, my body still weak, my breath catching painfully in my throat as I forced myself forward. The distance between us felt far too long.
Am I in time?
Can I—
And then—
SHLK.
A burst of heat shot through my body.
Not my chest.
My hand.
For a moment, my mind refused to understand what had happened.
Then I realized my hand had moved on instinct, grabbing something cold and solid.
The knife.
It was embedded straight through my left palm.
"Ah—"
The sound escaped my throat in a broken whisper.
"This… hurts."
Blood poured instantly from the wound, warm and sticky as it slipped between my fingers and dripped onto the stone pavement below. My hand trembled violently, yet my grip only tightened around the blade.
The man flinched.
He hadn't pulled the knife back yet. His hand was still gripping the handle, the blade buried through my palm. For a brief moment he simply stared at me, his eyes widening—not in fear, but in disbelief.
"You little—!" he snarled.
Then he pushed.
The knife drove deeper.
Pain exploded through my hand.
White light flashed across my vision as the agony shot up my arm and into my skull. For a moment I thought my legs would collapse beneath me.
But I didn't fall.
Instead, I swung my fist.
Once.
My punch struck his chest.
It felt like hitting a stone wall.
Twice.
Still nothing.
His body barely moved.
He was too big. Too solid.
"Hah?" he laughed mockingly. "What kind of punch was that? Pathetic."
But I kept punching.
Again.
And again.
Every movement sent waves of pain through my hand where the blade pierced my palm. The knife shifted with each strike, grinding against bone. My vision began to blur at the edges, dark spots flickering across my sight.
Still—
I didn't stop.
The man frowned slightly.
"Huh?"
He seemed genuinely confused that I was still standing.
My final punch came slower.
Weaker.
But in that moment—
I felt something.
It wasn't an explosion of power.
Not some dramatic surge of strength.
It was simply… warmth.
It spread quietly through my body, like sunlight touching the skin after a long, cold night. The sensation wrapped around me gently, calming the storm of pain inside my chest.
The agony in my hand didn't disappear.
But it became… distant.
Contained.
My breathing slowed.
My heartbeat steadied.
The trembling in my limbs faded.
I raised my fist again.
This time, I didn't swing with panic.
I moved with everything I had left.
With fear.
With pain.
With the decision not to step back.
BOOM.
My fist slammed into his chest.
The impact sent his entire body flying backward.
He crashed into the stone pavement several meters away.
I froze.
What—
What just happened?
Did I become stronger?
Was this because of that dream?
A hand rested gently on my shoulder.
"Calm down," the woman said quietly.
I turned toward her.
Her gaze was steady as she studied me.
"That's magic."
"How do you feel?" she asked.
"…Stronger," I admitted softly.
Behind us, the man groaned and forced himself back onto his feet.
"GET OVER HERE!" he roared.
The woman didn't even glance at him.
"Hit him," she said simply.
I stepped forward.
Then another step.
Then I ran.
BOOM.
My punch connected again.
His body lifted off the ground before crashing hard onto the pavement.
Then—
THUD.
Something struck the back of my head.
A stone.
The impact made my vision flicker.
But strangely—
in that moment…
it didn't hurt.
I turned.
The first thug—the one soaked by the water spell earlier—was staggering toward me, his face twisted with rage.
I didn't think.
BOOM.
One more punch.
He collapsed immediately.
This time—
he didn't get back up.
The people around us began looking at each other uneasily.
Then they scattered.
The marketplace dissolved into chaos.
I stood there in the middle of the street, breathing heavily.
My hand was still bleeding.
My chest trembled.
Not from fear.
But from understanding.
I hadn't saved her because I was strong.
I became strong—
because I chose to step forward.
The realization sent a cold shiver through my chest.
I looked down.
The knife was still lodged in my palm.
Slowly, I pulled it free.
For a brief moment—
there was no pain.
"…Magic," I murmured.
"Impressive."
Then—
the pain arrived.
All at once.
My palm burned as if someone had poured fire into the wound.
"Ngh—!"
At the same time, a heavy throbbing ache crashed into the back of my head, exactly where the stone had struck.
"Ah—!"
This time—
it hurt.
Badly.
My vision spun. The marketplace tilted sideways as if the entire world had shifted off balance. Voices blurred together into a distant ringing hum.
My legs gave out.
"Vein!"
The voice cut through the haze.
"Elna…"
She rushed forward, catching my arm as my body began to sway.
"Vein! Don't close your eyes—!"
I tried to respond.
But the pain in my head surged again, stronger than before.
My knees buckled.
The world collapsed around me.
And darkness swallowed everything.
—
My consciousness returned slowly.
The first thing I felt was the cold wooden surface beneath my body. My head rested on something soft and warm that shifted slightly when I moved.
I opened my eyes.
The first thing I saw was not the sky.
Not the trees.
But something that completely blocked my view.
Two soft curves rising directly in front of my face.
"…?"
My mind needed several seconds to understand what I was looking at.
Then realization struck.
I jolted upright.
I was lying across a park bench.
And my head—
had been resting on Elna's lap.
From the angle I had woken up at…
the view had been extremely inappropriate.
"Oh," a gentle voice said above me, sounding slightly relieved. "You're awake."
I tried to sit up immediately.
"Ah—!"
A sharp throb pulsed through my skull and I winced, nearly collapsing back down.
"Slowly," Elna said quickly as she placed a steadying hand on my shoulder. "You were unconscious for quite a while."
I swallowed and quickly turned my face away.
"S-sorry," I muttered stiffly. "I didn't mean to—"
Elna laughed softly.
Not teasing.
Not embarrassed.
Just light and natural.
"You didn't do anything," she said calmly. "I just didn't want your head hitting the ground when you collapsed."
I sat up more carefully this time, though the dizziness still lingered.
That was when I noticed my hand.
My left palm was wrapped neatly in clean white bandages. The dried blood had been washed away, leaving only a dull ache beneath the layers of cloth.
I stared at it for a long moment.
"…What happened after that?" I asked quietly.
Elna sat beside me on the bench, folding her hands in her lap.
She explained everything.
How the thug had eventually fled.
How the people in the market slowly gathered their courage again.
How the woman who intervened had ensured that no one dared to cause further trouble.
I listened in silence.
When she finished, Elna turned toward me with a sincere expression.
"Thank you, Vein."
I blinked.
"Eh?"
"For stepping forward," she said warmly. "If you hadn't stood in front of me… I don't know what would've happened."
I shook my head.
"I didn't chase them away," I said honestly. "You should thank the woman from earlier. She's the one who actually stopped everything."
Elna laughed again.
"Hey, Vein," she said gently while looking straight at me, "the fact that you stepped forward for me is already enough reason for me to thank you."
Warmth spread across my chest.
My face grew hot.
"I… I'm not used to being praised like that."
Another voice suddenly spoke beside the bench.
"Oh?"
The voice was calm and slightly curious.
"So you're awake."
I turned.
She stood there.
The same woman who had used water magic earlier in the market.
Her posture was straight and composed, her sharp gaze quietly observing me. She wasn't examining my injuries.
She was examining my choice.
"Is your head still spinning?" she asked.
For some reason, it felt like she wasn't only asking about my head.
"I'm fine," I replied.
She studied me for a moment, as if checking whether I was lying out of pride. Then she gave a small nod.
"Good."
My eyes drifted toward my bandaged hand.
"Earlier…" I began slowly. "When I attacked him… I felt something."
I looked directly at her.
"You gave me magic, didn't you?"
Elna stiffened slightly beside me.
The woman did not answer immediately. Her gaze moved briefly toward my bandaged palm before returning to my face.
"That was a buff spell," she said calmly. "One of the three types of magic in this world."
I fell silent.
"Three…?" I murmured, though I didn't interrupt further.
She continued without any hint of condescension.
"Buff magic does not create power," she explained. "It only opens limits."
"…Opens limits?" I repeated quietly.
She nodded.
"Your body already possessed everything you used just now. Strength. Reflexes. Focus. Endurance. Those things were always there."
She raised one finger as she spoke, emphasizing each point.
"Magic does not give something new. It forces one ability to surge beyond its natural threshold."
Her gaze sharpened slightly.
"When one ability rises beyond its balance, the others decline. Your body's equilibrium collapses. That is why the human body cannot endure more than one buff at a time."
I remembered the warmth from earlier.
Not fire.
Not lightning.
It had felt more like… being pushed.
"That warmth you felt," she continued, "was not strength. It was your body being forced to move beyond what it was prepared for."
I swallowed.
"Then why did the pain come afterward?" I asked quietly.
Her expression hardened slightly.
"Because the human body was not designed to be used that way without preparation," she replied bluntly. "Muscles can tear. Bones can fracture. Consciousness can collapse."
Her eyes flicked briefly toward my bandaged palm.
"If I had withdrawn the spell a second later…"
She did not finish the sentence.
Elna stiffened beside me.
I lowered my gaze toward my hand.
So that was why the pain came afterward.
Not because I was weak.
But because I had forced something I didn't understand.
"But," she added.
I looked up.
"You stopped before crossing the true limit."
My chest trembled slightly.
"Not because of my magic," she continued.
She looked directly at me.
"Because you chose to stop."
She turned her head slightly away.
"…Not everyone can do that."
Silence settled between us.
For the first time since arriving in this world, I understood something clearly.
Strength isn't about how far you can push forward.
It's about knowing when to stop.
She studied me quietly for several seconds.
"By the way," she said at last, "what's your name?"
I hesitated before answering.
"Vein. Vein Alteir."
She nodded once.
"Sylva Rosaline."
She paused briefly before continuing.
"Second-Rank Mage of the Sanctum of the Three Arts."
My chest tightened.
That name—
Sylva.
The same name I had been told to find.
Before I could process it, Elna reacted first.
"W-wait…?" Elna stepped closer, her eyes widening. "Sanctum of the Three Arts?"
She grabbed Sylva's hands without hesitation.
"Vein! She's from the Sanctum of the Three Arts!" Elna exclaimed excitedly. "That's the largest magic academy in the world!"
"And she's a Rank Two mage!" she added, practically glowing with excitement.
Elna looked genuinely thrilled.
I, however, felt completely blank.
Too many things were happening at once.
"Um…" Elna looked between us nervously. "Lady Sylva, could you show us your magic?"
Sylva sighed lightly.
"Don't call me 'Lady,'" she said flatly. "Just Sylva."
Elna beamed. "O-okay, Sylva!"
Sylva hesitated for a moment.
Then she raised her hand.
"If that's the case," she said quietly, "I'll show you my favorite spell."
She snapped her fingers.
The ground trembled softly.
Then light burst from the earth.
Not one.
Not two.
Dozens.
Tiny streaks of brilliance shot upward into the darkening sky.
Fireworks.
Water transformed into light, and that light bloomed into color—blue, green, gold—spreading across the evening sky in radiant arcs.
Elna gasped.
"Wow…"
I looked up.
The three of us stood there beneath a sky filled with shimmering light—beautiful, calm, and for a brief moment far removed from the cruelty of the world.
Warmth spread slowly through my chest.
A feeling I had not known in a very long time.
The desire to let time stop.
To believe that this moment could last forever.
I knew it couldn't.
I knew the world wasn't that kind.
But for one brief moment—
I allowed myself to believe.
And beneath that sky of blooming light—
I, Vein Alteir, felt that life might still hold meaning.